


Centuries

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sunstreaker finally arrives on Earth. Ratchet and Sideswipe have been planning for this ever since they heard the news of the incoming shuttle and Sunstreaker being on it. But all is not sunshine and roses for the twins at their reunion.





	Centuries

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr prompt in which anonymous said: where Sunny and Sides have been force kept apart for too long and the merge is both desperate and painful, and also an intense relief.

Come on, come on and let me in  
The bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints  
And this is for tonight  
I thought that you would feel  
I never meant for you to fix yourself  
  
'Centuries' - Fall Out Boy

\--

 

 

             

            He’s limping.

            Sunstreaker is limping, his head is hanging down as if he needs to watch where he puts his feet, and all of Sideswipe’s promises mean nothing because his twin is hurt and _showing_ it. Not that Sunstreaker hasn’t in the past when things have been bad, but rarely in front of strangers, much less members of an entirely new species.

            “Steady, Sideswipe… steady…” Ironhide intones behind him. His energy field is like a rock, unmoving despite the frantic lash of Sideswipe’s. The old warrior is there for a reason – to keep Sideswipe from bolting across the tarmac and leaping onto his brother as soon as the shuttle touches down.

            “’Hide…” Sideswipe whimpers, his frame feeling tight and restrictive. “I can’t…”

            “Five minutes. You promised Ratchet five minutes,” Ironhide said, and Sideswipe nods rapidly.

            He had. He had totally promised Ratchet he would get five minutes with Sunstreaker to assess him before Sideswipe whisked him away. But now Sideswipe regrets that promise once he sees Ratchet plugging his diagnostic cord into Sunstreaker’s forearm port. Sideswipe snarls, a heavy, ugly sound, because _Sideswipe_ should be the first into Sunstreaker’s systems.

            Sideswipe clenches his hands into fists and trills the most basic glyphs of sheer frustration/fury/need. Five minutes is too long. Ratchet could totally asses Sunstreaker in one. Why had Sideswipe agreed to five again?

            “It’s all right. Sideswipe, it’s all right, Ratchet’s almost done,” Ironhide rumbles, laying a heavy hand on Sideswipe’s shoulder. Sideswipe irritably shrugs out from under, but stays put.

            And then Sunstreaker stumbles.

            … no one has ever said Sideswipe had much restraint.

            He’s standing still one second and then moving the next, wheeling across the distance between him and his twin before Ironhide can even register the movement.

            Sunstreaker hasn’t looked at Sideswipe once since he had exited the shuttle although his path had been a direct one towards Sideswipe. He still doesn’t look up, but Ratchet catches sight of Sideswipe and rolls his optics. Ratchet doesn’t wave him away, so Sideswipe doesn’t even pause. Sunstreaker blindly holds an arm up the instant before Sideswipe slots himself against his brother’s side.

            “I got you. I got you, Sunny,” Sideswipe says, voice breaking like every syllable hurts him. Sunstreaker tilts slightly and the side of his helm butts up against Sideswipe’s; his arm rests heavy across Sideswipe’s shoulders.

            “I know.”

            Before Sideswipe can despair over the paper thin sound that is Sunstreaker’s voice, Ratchet speaks up.

            “He’s running on fumes, Sideswipe. Spike a peripheral line, _not_ a main one! He’ll drain you dry in minutes. And be gentle, he’s got over a dozen healing struts and half of those are spinal,” Ratchet says, still walking with them, still connected to Sunstreaker.

            It’s only the respect and affection he has for Ratchet that keeps Sideswipe from bodily ripping Ratchet’s cord away from Sunstreaker’s port. As it is, he grips Sunstreaker’s opposite hip tighter, not so incidentally pulling his twin closer to himself and away from Ratchet.

            “Not interested in jumping his struts right now, Ratchet,” Sideswipe remarks, not even looking at him. Sideswipe’s staring at Sunstreaker instead, noting the creased lines of pain and exhaustion on his face.

            “Not now, I know, but he’s going to need several days of rest. _Rest,_ Sideswipe,” Ratchet emphasizes. “Don’t ‘face yourselves into stasis or over-merge.”

            “No such thing,” Sideswipe replies, leading Sunstreaker towards the building specifically repurposed for their reunion.

            “Sideswipe…”

            “What?” Sideswipe snaps, practically jittering out of his plating. They’re so close… so _close_ …

            Ratchet sighs with the air of defeat. “Just… be careful with each other. Alright, go. Call me if you need me.”

            The medic detaches his cord, flips Sunstreaker’s port closed, and gestures towards the garage. His presence almost immediately fades from Sideswipe’s awareness and now he is 100% focused on in on his twin.

            “Uh huh,” Sideswipe replies absently, feeling Sunstreaker lean a little more of his weight against him Sideswipe with every other step. “Almost there, Sunny. We got a nice little setup. Quiet, private, just you and me, ok, bro?”

            “For how long?” Sunstreaker asks, fingers flexing around the point of Sideswipe’s shoulder.

            “Long as we need. Prime and Ratchet both promised. Ok, here, watch your head.”

            They duck under the open garage doors and Sideswipe slams the button just inside. The doors rumble downwards, making the interior of the building even dimmer. It’s lit by just a few overhead lights. All the windows have been blacked out and noise-cancelling foam lines each of the four walls.

            It’s a small space, but they don’t really need a lot of room. When it comes down to it, all they need is a horizontal surface. Sideswipe has gone one better and amassed several large pieces of old, but clean, carpeting to create a soft bed up against the farthest wall.

            Sideswipe leads his brother there, and Sunstreaker sinks down onto the mats under Sideswipe’s guidance.

            “Oh,” Sunstreaker rumbles appreciatively. He passes his hand along the top most carpet, a thick lavender shag. “Soft.”

            “Yeah. Lean back, baby. It’s all for you,” Sideswipe urges, gently pushing Sunstreaker’s shoulders until he is propped up against the wall.

            “All right, let’s get you some fuel, hmm?” Sideswipe says.

            A direct energon drip might have been better, but Sideswipe had insisted on transfusing from his own systems. He and Ratchet had argued back and forth, but in the end, Ratchet had reluctantly agreed. Overall, transfusion would be faster and would also give Sunstreaker some of Sideswipe’s repair nanites. It had been an automatic assumption that Sunstreaker would be injured and unfortunately Sideswipe and Ratchet had been right.

            Sideswipe yanks his transfusion supplies out of subspace. The tubing kinks on him a few times, his trembling fingers not helping matters. It doesn’t stop him from shoving the canula straight into his main jugular port. Almost immediately, energon wells up into the tubing and Sideswipe lets it flow until it reaches the other end before clamping it off. Then Sideswipe gently eases the opposite needle into Sunstreaker’s corresponding port.

            “Ratchet said peripheral…” Sunstreaker says, weakly grabbing at Sideswipe’s wrists. Sideswipe easily evades him and opens up the flow.

            “I know what he said,” Sideswipe replies, optic shutters fluttering at the immediate drain to his fuel reserve. But that’s why he had topped off right before the shuttle had touched down. “I don’t care. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

            Sunstreaker’s optics slip closed. “I don’t exactly have a lot to share.”

            “Don’t worry about it. Here, drink this too,” Sideswipe urges, holding out a container of energon. He has a stockpile of them, in addition to coolant.

“I’m going to need a full systems flush,” Sunstreaker comments, sipping at the fuel.

            Sideswipe’s systems have dropped from 99% to 75%, all within the span of a minute. Ratchet hadn’t been lying about Sunstreaker running on fumes. Sideswipe wonders if the other occupants of the shuttle are this underfueled.

            Then he shunts the thought aside. That’s Ratchet’s concern; Sideswipe’s is Sunstreaker.

            Sideswipe grabs a cube for himself and starts drinking. He wants Sunstreaker’s levels up to at least 50% before doing anything else, despite the urgent messages Sideswipe’s spark is giving him.

            “When was your last flush?” Sideswipe asks. His left hand twitches and then reaches out to pet Sunstreaker’s knee. He wants to be wrapped around his twin, but getting Sunstreaker energy is more important right now so Sideswipe compromises. If he gave in to the urge to embrace his twin now, he’d never let go.

            “Cellus IV,” Sunstreaker replies, and Sideswipe winces.

            “Man, Ratchet is gonna have a field day with you. Once I let you go, that is.”

            Sunstreaker nods, gaze traveling down Sideswipe’s frame. “I’ve waited this long; it’ll keep. You look good.”

            “You look like crap,” Sideswipe replies bluntly. There is the occasional patch of gold, but for the most part, Sunstreaker is primer gray. And even that is dull. It’s painful to look at. “But don’t worry, I’ll fix you up.”

            “Later,” Sunstreaker replies. His gaze stops at the level of Sideswipe’s mouth and Sideswipe subconsciously licks a drop of energon from his lower lip. “Hey, c’mere.”

            “I’m supposed to be gentle with you,” Sideswipe says, but he puts his cube down, knowing what Sunstreaker wants. He rocks forward onto his hands and knees and shuffles forward, straddling Sunstreaker’s outstretched left leg.

            Surely just a kiss would be ok…

            “Mm. He never said anything about me being gentle with you,” Sunstreaker replies. Sideswipe catches a glint of that old familiar mischievousness in Sunstreaker’s optics just before their lips meet.

            Sunstreaker immediately grasps Sideswipe’s face and holds him in place as they kiss. The first initial press quickly turns into a long overdue re-exploration of each’s others’ mouths. Sideswipe has purposively not thought about kissing his brother for the past several centuries. Besides spark merging, kissing Sunstreaker had been one of Sideswipe’s favorite things to do with his twin. Especially those warm, lazy kisses in which everything else in the world fell away and it was just them.

            He moans into Sunstreaker’s mouth as their glossae slide against one another and create a spark of charge. Sideswipe’s arms suddenly go weak and he would like nothing more than to flop on top of Sunstreaker and press every inch of their frames together. But Sunstreaker had felt so horribly fragile as he had leaned against Sideswipe earlier. Ratchet’s warning about healing spinal struts finally registers.

            Sideswipe reluctantly pulls back, tipping his head forward so that their forehelms thunk together. “Cheater,” he murmurs. “Primus, I missed you so much, Sunny.”

            Sunstreaker’s left thumb sweeps around Sideswipe’s cheek strut. Sunstreaker’s optics glow a soft, deep blue that Sideswipe wouldn’t mind getting lost in forever. No one Sideswipe has ever met had optics the exact same shade as Sunstreaker did. Even Sideswipe’s are a touch lighter than Sunstreaker’s.

            “I missed you too.”

            “What are your fuel levels at?” Sideswipe asks, because the need is getting overwhelming, especially after that lovely taste of his twin.

            “They’re fine,” Sunstreaker says, brushing off the question. His hands slip down to Sideswipe’s shoulders and tug. “Get down here, will you? I want you.”

            Sideswipe abruptly jerks all the way back out of Sunstreaker’s range. Temptation is a lovely siren, but Sideswipe is going to do this right.

            “What are they?” Sideswipe presses. “I want you too, but you know merging is gonna be… difficult.”

            “… 39%,” Sunstreaker says after a moment. He sighs as Sideswipe retreats even further.  

            “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So drink more,” Sideswipe says, nudging two cubes in his brother’s direction. To take Sideswipe’s mind off his spark, he pulls over the box of cleaning tools he had gathered together. “When you’re at 50%, we can talk again. In the meantime, give me your pedes. Why are you limping?”

            “Sacral strut,” Sunstreaker says, straightening out his other leg. He shifts his pedes into Sideswipe’s lap, the left leg moving like it hurts. “When it fractured it pinched the sensory cluster at the top of my thigh and it’s still healing.”

            “Did Ratchet give you any pain suppressors?” Sideswipe inquires, taking a brush and gently attacking the multiple joints in Sunstreaker’s right ankle. All kinds of grit begins falling out and Sideswipe frowns. He’s not seen his brother in this poor of a condition since they were younglings on the streets. There is so much Sideswipe wants to ask, but it’s always been hit or miss if Sunstreaker will want to talk about his experiences, especially if they’ve been bad ones.

            “A light dose. He gave me more for later though,” Sunstreaker answers. He’s steadily drinking his energon now, seemingly on a mission. It’s reassuring to see Sunstreaker’s normal fire growing from a pitiful ember to an actual flickering flame.  

            “Good. You’re going to be sore later.”

            After their merge, they both will, but Sunstreaker’s the one who is far more delicate right now.

            “Mm. So… wheels?” Sunstreaker asks, his other pede gently knocking against Sideswipe’s elbow. “And are those blades?”

            “Yeah. Wanted to try something different,” Sideswipe replies, head down.

            He had _needed_ something new. He had been left on his own, and he hadn’t really known who he was without Sunstreaker. He honestly still doesn’t, not completely, but he’s learned some things along the way.

            “The silver suits you,” Sunstreaker pronounces. “44%”

            Sideswipe shivers. His own levels read at 60% so he reaches out to grab another cube and down it quickly.  

            “So how you wanna do this?” Sideswipe asks. He gently rotates Sunstreaker’s ankle and then places the pede back on the floor when the joint moves smoothly. He’s more careful with the left, so as not to place any additional strain on Sunstreaker’s lower back.

            “On our sides, I think,” Sunstreaker replies. “Or me on top. 46%.”

            Sunstreaker is starting to tremble and Sideswipe can feel the intensity of his brother’s gaze boring into the top of his helm. Still moving carefully, Sideswipe starts cleaning faster. He’s starting to think that once Sunstreaker hits 50% there’s not going to be a whole lot of talking like Sideswipe had promised earlier.  

            “Probably best to start on our sides. I see you finally got rid of those ridiculous helm vents,” Sideswipe idly remarks. He pauses to reach for another container of fuel and finishes it off in four swallows.

            “Yeah. Wanted something different.”

            Sideswipe glances up to see his brother smirking at him. It’s another glimmer of the old Sunstreaker that is slowly starting to return now that he’s safe and being cared for.

            “Well, I heartily propose that you leave them off. You know I like spooning you,” Sideswipe says, grinning. A few more passes of his brush and he deems the left pede good to go as well so he gently lowers it to the mat.

            “And I like fragging you from behind once we roll over. So several good reasons to not bring them back.”

             It’s Sideswipe’s turn to shiver. Sparks first, but after they’re stabilized, he anticipates they’ll be fragging each other silly for days. His valve weakly clenches down on nothing at the thought; it’s been empty of anything other than his fingers for far too long now.

             “We really have as long as we need?” Sunstreaker asks, a note of wistfulness entering his voice.

             Sideswipe nods as he takes a cleaning cloth damp with solvent and starts wiping down the bottom of Sunstreaker’s pedes. “CMO’s orders,” he replies cheerfully.

             And thank Primus for Ratchet. When Sideswipe had come to Earth, Ratchet had immediately run a full diagnostic on him, grumbling fretfully at Sideswipe’s spark readings. They had hashed out the needs of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s reunion in great detail, once they had gotten word of the incoming shuttle. And all of it with Optimus’ blessing.

            And how could he not give it? He was a twin himself and well knew the demands of a split spark. But at least he had had the Matrix of Leadership all this time to help with the pain of Megatron’s separation.

            “He’ll probably check on us if he doesn’t hear from us in several days, but other than that, we’re on our own,” Sideswipe continues.

            “49%. He’ll yell at you for spiking our jugs,” Sunstreaker comments idly. He opens another cube and starts drinking it. Three empty containers litter the floor at his side, Sideswipe notes approvingly.

            “Like I haven’t been yelled at for way worse. It’s basically his way of him telling me he loves me,” Sideswipe says, grinning again. “We’ll have to do something nice for him once we actually emerge from here.”

            “Sure. 50%. Get up here,” Sunstreaker demands, slamming the empty cube to the ground. He reaches for Sideswipe but Sideswipe shies away from his grasp.

            “Gimmie a sec,” Sideswipe says, tossing the cleaning cloth to the side. He clamps off the transfusion lines and carefully withdraws them from their ports on each of their frames. He takes a moment to clean the cannulas because with the amount of energy they’re going to be expending, they might still come in handy.

            “Sideswipe.”

            “I’m coming,” Sideswipe insists. His fuel levels have crept up to 62%, but he downs another cube of Energon just in case.

            “Sideswipe… I _need_ you,” Sunstreaker says softly.

            Sideswipe looks up, startled. He can count on one hand the number of times Sunstreaker has said that. Sideswipe can’t hold out any longer after that confession.

            He pushes the empty cube across the floor to Sunstreaker’s pile and then starts crawling across the carpet to Sunstreaker’s side. Sunstreaker slowly slides down until he is lying prone, optics fixated on Sideswipe’s face the entire time.

            “I need you too,” Sideswipe admits, voice breaking up at the edges. He lowers himself, Sunstreaker’s arms reaching to pull him in.

            Sideswipe’s optic shutters clench shut in bliss as their frames come into full contact. It was different outside, their sides pressed together as he had hurried Sunstreaker into the building. That was for support and he had still been warring with himself over Ratchet’s intrusion. This is just Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, alone and finally about to quench an insistent desire.

            Except…

            “Not yet,” Sideswipe instructs, hearing the familiar clicks within Sunstreaker’s chest. He opens his optics to see Sunstreaker staring at him incredulously.

            “What exactly are you waiting for?” Sunstreaker demands.

            Sideswipe bends his head, lightly kissing his brother’s lips. “It’s gonna hurt, Sunny.”

            “Yeah, and?”

            “So let’s try and lessen that a bit. Can’t you feel it? Our sparks are already recognizing each other,” Sideswipe says.

            It’s true. His spark has felt lopsided, too fast, and arrhythmic for centuries. As soon as he had made initial physical contact with Sunstreaker, Sideswipe’s spark had started to even out and slow. He can feel Sunstreaker’s doing the same, coming into automatic sync from its twin’s closeness.

            “My spark recognized yours when I entered the galaxy,” Sunstreaker says impatiently. But his thoracic cavity stays covered.

            “Aww, that’s actually really sweet,” Sideswipe says. He smiles a little sappily, loving the optic roll Sunstreaker gives him in response.

            “I meant it to be an incentive,” Sunstreaker retorts, but his hand is gentle as it slides up Sideswipe’s back. “You’re kinda killing me here.”

            “The whole point is to not do that,” Sideswipe says, nuzzling Sunstreaker’s cheek. “Trust me, I’m just as impatient as you are.”

            “You’re certainly hiding it better,” Sunstreaker says reproachfully. Sideswipe is trembling, yes, but Sunstreaker is outright shaking at this point. Their plating is rattling loud enough to echo in the otherwise empty building.

            “I’m not trying to hide it; I’m just trying to be responsible.”

            Sunstreaker looks at him askance. “You? Responsible?” he quips.

            Sideswipe shrugs, the motion awkward while on his side. “It happens. Sometimes. Now shush.”

            Sighing, Sunstreaker nods and settles, once more stroking up Sideswipe’s back.

            After another minute, Sideswipe finally relents. “Ok, I think that’s good. Open up, but to crystals only,” Sideswipe instructs, already unlocking the catches to his plating.

            Sunstreaker shakes harder as their armor transforms aside, tucking out of the way. Because of their warbuild frames, they have redundant plating around their sparks, and that slides aside too. Flickering blue light emanates out of their chests and Sideswipe reflexively leans back, admiring the unique tinge of indigo to Sunstreaker’s spark.

            Sunstreaker whines, shoving himself forward until their cavities scrape against one another. Sideswipe’s spark practically flings itself against its protective crystal, and he grunts at the unpleasant feeling.

            “Shh, I’m not going anywhere,” he says reassuringly. “I just missed seeing it. Hold on for a bit longer, ok? We’re almost there.”

            “Look later,” Sunstreaker growls, fingers digging into Sideswipe’s back, no longer gentle. “What the frag are you waiting for?!”

            Sideswipe’s back arches a little on its own volition. When he speaks again, his voice is strained. “It’s gonna hurt, Sunny,” he says, repeating himself.

            Oh, how it will hurt. It doesn’t make sense to anyone, but when they’re apart for long periods of time, it’s as if their spark halves wall themselves off, creating protective, scar-like layers around their cores. The last time they had been apart it had been for a little under a vorn and when they had merged, it had stung like acid rain. They hadn’t even been able to form a complete merge. After a short period of time, their sparks had forcibly separated and they had had to try again after a bit of rest. The merge had taken then, but Sideswipe well remembers the pain amidst the joy.

             “I. Don’t. Care,” Sunstreaker says through gritted denta. He triggers his crystal to retract and blazing heat seeps into Sideswipe’s chest.

             He’s helpless to resist at that point. His spark has been telling him to merge for over five centuries and nothing will stop it now that it finally has its mate offering itself up on a silver platter.

             Sideswipe dimly hears a whimper as his own casing transforms away with an aching slide. He’s not sure who the sound comes from, but he knows it’s _his_ scream he buries against Sunstreaker’s neck as their sparks come in contact for the first time.

             Instead of gently melding, their sparks slam together and practically bounce off each other. He imagines if someone were to punch him in the spark it would feel like this. He doesn’t like it one bit. But he knows there are tiny cracks in their sparks’ protective scars that will eventually let their mate in. It will just take time and effort.

             Sunstreaker tucks his face up under Sideswipe’s cheek, whining piteously. And Sideswipe hates that, hates that his brother has to have pain even in this, when it should be pure pleasure and bliss.

             “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Sideswipe murmurs, mumbling into Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “We knew it would be like this, it’ll pass, it’s ok.”

             A tiny portion of the resistance breaks away and both of their frames jerk as their sparks renew their battle to join one another.

             “Ah, Primus, please!” Sideswipe whispers pleadingly. Now it feels like someone is scratching talons down his spark in repetitive slashes. His entire body strains with his spark’s effort and it feels like his fuel pump is going to explode it’s going to so fast. He has to wonder if they took in enough energon for this.

             The agony continues, their sparks slipping against one another. Each step forward in the right direction is hard fought, so much so that after another few minutes, Sideswipe feels his body go cold, then flush hot. His spark’s forward progression falters, then it withdraws and its protective crystal automatically begins to creep in from the sides.

             Sunstreaker cries out, holding onto Sideswipe tighter, but this too is out of their control. While a bodily imperative to merge, it is also a matter of survival to retreat before they burn themselves out.

             Their sparks settle back into their chests, Sideswipe’s feeling raw and abused.

             “No...” Sunstreaker whimpers, slumping. His cooling fans whine with a high pitched squeal that Ratchet will definitely need to look at. “Primus, I hate this.”

             Sideswipe kisses Sunstreaker’s jaw, the closest thing he can reach. “So… I think it’s safe to say we should never be separated again,” Sideswipe muses. His crystal finishes closing, but he doesn’t let Sunstreaker go. There’s still an iota of comfort to know Sunstreaker’s spark is so close.

             “Maybe we should merge more in general,” Sunstreaker replies. He sounds so defeated that Sideswipe kisses him again.

             “Once we get realigned… I second that.”

             After a bit, they detangle themselves and drink more energon. Sideswipe resumes cleaning Sunstreaker’s legs and he reaches mid-shin when his spark gives a funny little lurch. His head jerks up and he sees Sunstreaker staring down at his own chest.

             “Did you…?” Sunstreaker asks, gaze flicking up to catch Sideswipe’s optics.

             “Yeah, no, I felt it too,” Sideswipe says. “Can you retract your casing?”

             Sideswipe finds out that his will reluctantly slide aside, but he immediately closes it again. The temperature of the air in the building isn’t extreme in either direction, but even the slightest breeze across his exposed core is unpleasant.

             “Yeah. Try again?” Sunstreaker asks, already sliding back down to lay on his side.

             “Yup.”

             Even though he knows pain is waiting for him, Sideswipe eagerly flops to the carpet. That familiar anticipatory thrill makes his lines run warm and he squirms close to his twin. They embrace each other, Sideswipe once more savoring the press of Sunstreaker’s plating against his.

             “Do you want to wait again?” Sunstreaker asks, rolling more into Sideswipe. Their legs tangle together, Sideswipe letting his brother position himself however is most comfortable.

             Sideswipe considers it, but their sparks are already spinning in sync. There’s that at least.

             “No, I don’t think we have to. Alright… let’s give it a go.”

             As soon as their sparks touch for the second time, Sideswipe knows this attempt won’t be the last. It hurts just as much as first time, maybe even a little bit more. Their sparks give against one another reluctantly after a bit, but keep straining painfully towards completion.

             “So fragging stupid!” Sunstreaker growls, vents hitching with distress. All Sideswipe can do is nod, trying to focus on anything other than the feeling of molten lava being poured over his spark. “Why is it like this?”

             “I don’t know!” Sideswipe cries. His head spins and the pain is so bad he writhes a little before reflexively biting Sunstreaker’s shoulder, denta denting the plating.

             Sunstreaker gasps and returns the gesture. Sideswipe can’t tell if it’s retaliatory or a coping mechanism like it is for Sideswipe. Sideswipe doesn’t really care as the tiny sting of the bite is nothing in comparison to what is going on internally.

             “Come on, come on, come on,” Sideswipe chants, willing himself to push harder against Sunstreaker. He can feel outer tendrils of their sparks meshing together and he gets the first wisp of external emotion (frustration) across the connection when his spark hiccups again.

             Sunstreaker bites Sideswipe for a second time, wordlessly yelling into Sideswipe’s armor. This time Sideswipe knows it’s out of anger at the situation more than anything else. But no matter how much they strain, their sparks retreat again. After their casings close, Sideswipe goes limp, every inch of him buzzing. At his side, Sunstreaker pants and shivers.

             “Do you… do you think it might never happen?” Sunstreaker asks in a quiet voice that is filled with despair.

             Sideswipe shakes his head and then winces. The cables in his neck are tight from being so tense.

             “I know we’re getting closer. I felt something from you,” Sideswipe says. “It might just take several more tries.”

             Sunstreaker shifts, sliding backwards a bit to stare incredulously at Sideswipe. “Are we gonna survive this?”

             Sideswipe shrugs helplessly. “I have to hope yes.”

             “That’s not all that reassuring, you know. Maybe we should call for Ratchet,” Sunstreaker suggests.

             “Why? We’re the only set of twins he’s ever worked with. He’s not going to know if we don’t. And we certainly don’t,” Sideswipe reasons. Plus, he still wants to keep Sunstreaker all to himself for as long as possible.

             Sighing, Sunstreaker draws an arm up and rests his cheek on it. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Hey, no, stay?”

             Sideswipe pauses, partially pushed up on his elbow. “But I’m cleaning you,” he protests.

             “It can wait. Let’s just…” Sunstreaker trails off, but tugs on Sideswipe’s supporting arm. Then he pats the space right next to him invitingly.

             “Are you suggesting we… cuddle?” Sideswipe teases, a slow smile forming. He doesn’t know how many times Sunstreaker has told him that ‘frontliners don’t cuddle’. Not that that had ever stopped Sideswipe, at least in private.

             “No! …yes, all right!” Sunstreaker exclaims, rolling his optics. “So can you just come back down here?!”

             Sideswipe goes. Who knows when he’ll ever have an actual invitation (practically demand, really!) to snuggle again?

             And it’s nice, to just entangle their arms and legs together and mix their ventilations in the small space between them. Sunstreaker ends up pulling Sideswipe’s helm closer and starting a kiss which lingers, slow and lazy and warm.

             By the time their sparks signal they’re ready again, Sideswipe feels much more relaxed. If it wasn’t for his HUD continually still urging him to complete their merge, Sideswipe might have said ‘fuck it’ and let it go to another day. But no matter how good the kiss is, a complete merge will be far better.

             Still, Sideswipes presses for the kiss to continue when Sunstreaker tries to draw back. He tugs on Sunstreaker, rolling to his back and pulling his twin with him so that Sunstreaker sprawls against Sideswipe’s front. Sideswipe’s crystal casing slides aside and he can immediately feel Sunstreaker mirror him.

             Sideswipe wonders if the tiny bit of relaxation helps because almost immediately he can feel their sparks mesh more than they had previously. It still feels like pushing a combiner up a sheer cliff while suffering from a dozen, bleeding wounds, but Sideswipe starts receiving more of his twin’s emotions.

             “Oh, frag,” Sunstreaker whispers, tearing his mouth away from Sideswipe’s seconds into their third attempt. “ _Frag_ … why does it hurt so much?”

             He sounds broken and plaintive and the pain is nearly unbearable so Sideswipe falls back onto old habits of distraction.

             He talks.

             “Try not to think about it, baby,” Sideswipe murmurs, optics shutters clenched tightly shut. “We’ll get through this… we always get through… look at how long we were separated and here we are… back again. It won’t be long until we’re kicking ass and taking names. We’ll merge, I know it. Each time, we’re a little closer. And it’s going to be worth it in the end, you know it will. After… after, I’ll clean you up, strip you down, take you to the car wash in town. You’ll love it… the soap gets into every crack and the wax… oh, baby, you’ll love the wax selection. Smells so good… I bet it’ll taste good too…”

             Sideswipe shudders as their sparks slip and intertwine further. He can feel Sunstreaker’s pain, his despair, and his confusion.

             “I’m gonna lick every inch of you,” Sideswipe continues, voice catching in his vocalizer. “Up into your valve until you’re dripping… around the head of your spike like it’s a lollipop… I want to hear you scream my name over and over again. I want you to take me on every surface of this base. I want to fuck you until neither one of us can stand.”

             “I want… nngh…” Sideswipe bites off a scream as their sparks throb in unison, hard and heavy. The burn of it radiates throughout every inch of his frame.

             “Sides… Sides…” Sunstreaker whimpers, tucking his head into the crook of Sideswipe’s shoulder. He gnaws on Sideswipe’s plating and Sideswipe briefly thinks he made a monster when he first bit Sunstreaker. Not that Sideswipe faults his twin for it. “Make it stop… please, make it stop…”

             Sideswipe doesn’t know if he’s capable of stopping the merge on his own. The decision is taken out of his hands anyway, their sparks twisting in on themselves to forcibly separate. They must have made more progress than Sideswipe had realized because when the tentative link unravels, it hurts just as much as them merging.

             It leaves them panting and aching and Sideswipe tilts his head back, choking off a sob. Maybe they _should_ call Ratchet…

             “What… in the Pit… are you saying half the time?” Sunstreaker asks after a moment, face nudging up under Sideswipe’s chin. “It’s like you’re… speaking… another language.”

             Sideswipe’s optics peek open and he stares at the dim ceiling in surprise. “Uh… did no one give you the language packs? They speak English here… some of it slips in… sorry.”

             “Transfer it later?” Sunstreaker asks wearily. “Not really important.”

             He abruptly shoves himself off Sideswipe, landing on his side. He paws weakly at Sideswipe’s abdomen. “Hey, open?”

             Sideswipe makes a wordless whine of protest, and he gives Sunstreaker puppy dog optics. “I can’t, Sunny. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. And I kinda don’t want to, no offense. I just want to die a little.”

             “No, not your spark, you overdramatic glitch. You’re panel. I definitely understood the ‘facing bits,” Sunstreaker explains, hand slipping further downward until he cups Sideswipe’s covered array.

             “There is no way we’re fragging right now,” Sideswipe says bluntly. “ _I_ don’t think I could manage it, so there’s no way you could.” 

             “I know that!” Sunstreaker replies, starting to get testy. “Doesn’t mean I can’t get to know this new frame a little.”

             “Oh. Well, then… have at it,” Sideswipe replies. He exposes himself and Sunstreaker immediately pets Sideswipe’s valve, fingers shaking but gentle.

             After the pain of failed spark mergings, Sideswipe’s completely unaroused, no matter what he had been saying earlier. So it’s a pleasant touch, but it doesn’t shoot a bolt of arousal through him like it normally would.

             “What color are your lights?” Sunstreaker asks. He strokes along the outer lips, fingers curving under just slightly to run over Sideswipe’s biolights. Sideswipe’s not surprised that Sunstreaker can’t see from this angle. And it’d take far too much effort to shift around to show him.

             “Still red,” Sideswipe sighs, his optic shutters slipping partway closed. He kinda likes this… his spark is currently out of commission and there isn’t any pressure to ‘face. It’s just exploration and Sunstreaker relearning Sideswipe’s body. “Was too much trouble to change them. Besides, red and silver still look good.”

             “If you say so,” Sunstreaker teases. His thumb brushes over Sideswipe’s main anterior node and Sideswipe ex-vents shakily. That had felt… good, actually. So of course, Sunstreaker moves his hand away, sliding up and dipping a finger into Sideswipe’s spike housing. He’s completely depressurized, but Sunstreaker can still reach far enough to caress the softened head.

             “Your colors?” Sideswipe asks. He strokes Sunstreaker’s side, hand landing on his hip. Sideswipe lightly taps the armor there in an unspoken ask, and Sunstreaker responds by transforming his panel aside. Sideswipe follows his brother’s lead, carefully dipping his hand between the apex of Sunstreaker’s thighs to explore.

             “Mmm… gold,” Sunstreaker replies. He starts touching with more purpose now that Sideswipe has returned the favor. It takes a bit of time, but eventually their spikes start pressurizing and rising up from their sheaths. Both of their valves begin to dampen but by some unspoken agreement, they turn their attention higher up.

             Sideswipe’s hand encircles Sunstreaker’s length, squeezing gently and stroking until it is firm and hot against Sideswipe’s palm. His thump slips across the head as a bead of pre-transfluid wells up, and Sunstreaker makes an approving noise in the back of his throat. In response, he twists his wrist on the next upstroke of Sideswipe’s spike and Sideswipe’s hips twitch forward to encourage more of the touch.

             “Gold here too, huh?” Sideswipe says quietly. His gaze is focused on his twin’s face, relaxed and open so close to his own. Sunstreaker blinks at him lazily and nods. “I’m still red.”

             “What’s a lolli… pop?” Sunstreaker asks, apropos of nothing. Until Sideswipe dimly recalls his rushed mumble earlier.

             “It’s a human thing. A hard piece of candy, mostly sugar, which is sweet and apparently very tasty. It’s placed on a stick and the humans lick at it as it slowly dissolves.”

             “Huh,” Sunstreaker comments. “I’d prefer my spike to not dissolve the next time you do oral, thanks.”

             Sideswipe’s hand moves a little faster at the thought. Primus… when was the last time he had gone down on Sunstreaker? “Yeah, no, me too.”

             They continue to stimulate one another, taking pleasure in watching each other react to the sensory input. Sideswipe loves the indigo shade Sunstreaker’s optics turn the closer he gets to overload, and Sunstreaker can’t seem to stop staring at Sideswipe’s mouth.

             It probably doesn’t help that Sideswipe can’t seem to stop licking his lower lip.

             A few minutes in, Sideswipe’s spark flickers as it… resets, or whatever the Pit it does in preparation for another merge. Sideswipe knows Sunstreaker feels it too because their optics meet. But neither one stops what they’re doing. In fact, Sunstreaker’s grip firms and his hand moves faster.

             Sideswipe bites his lip at the surge of pleasure and Sunstreaker makes an aggravated sound right before squirming closer so he can lick where Sideswipe had just nibbled.

             “Stop teasing me,” Sunstreaker whispers against Sideswipe’s mouth.

             He shakes his head, optic shutters falling shut as his pedes start to tingle in the first stirrings of overload. “I’m not trying to,” he says honestly. “You’re the one with the oral fixation.”

             Sunstreaker growls and kisses him properly this time. Moaning, Sideswipe completely submits to Sunstreaker domineering the kiss. The tingle moves up Sideswipe’s legs and settles in the pit of his abdomen, warm and pulsing. Sideswipe pulls away just slightly to gasp against Sunstreaker’s cheek.

             “Close… you?”

             Sunstreaker bends his head and nibbles at the line of Sideswipe’s jaw and Sideswipe tilts his head back to accommodate him.

             “Yeah… _this_ won’t hurt, will it?” Sunstreaker worriedly asks, and Sideswipe has the urge to pull Sunstreaker close and shelter him from everything bad in this world and the next. But this at least, shouldn’t be part of that.

             Sideswipe doesn’t reply. Instead he increases the speed of his hand, giving the head of Sunstreaker’s spike a twisting squeeze that he knows Sunstreaker likes. It doesn’t take long for Sunstreaker to stiffen and then overload, transfluid a warm mess between Sideswipe’s fingers.

             Sunstreaker’s hand goes a little lax, so Sideswipe places his over his brother’s and thrusts his spike into the tight canal. His twin’s deep and satisfied moans carry Sideswipe through his own climax, a wave of pleasure that bursts outwards from his belly and makes his limbs feel all gooey.

             “No…” Sideswipe says a minute later, after his fuel pump stops racing, “… it shouldn’t hurt.”

             Sunstreaker chuckles weakly, fingers giving Sideswipe’s spike one last fondle before he lets go. He squirms around, crawling atop Sideswipe’s chest and presents his sticky fingers to Sideswipe.

             “Thanks. Suck,” he commands, all sleepy-opticked and content.

             Sideswipe has no problem at all obeying that command and he diligently cleans each and every one of Sunstreaker’s fingers until they shine. Then he sucks the cooling transfluid off his own, while Sunstreaker avidly watches.

             When he’s done, Sunstreaker inches forward and claims Sideswipe’s mouth in a bruising kiss, chasing down each minuscule molecule of transfluid. Sideswipe loses himself for a minute, floating in a post-overload haze. He’s brought back to sudden awareness when he feels heat blaze against his chest armor.  

             Licking Sunstreaker’s lower lip, Sideswipe pulls away and lets his plating retract, his spark buzzing eagerly.

             Stupid thing.

             “Think this’ll be it?” Sunstreaker asks, optics a little pinched in anticipation.

             Sideswipe sighs. “ _Primus_ , I hope so.”

 

\--

 

               It’s not it. Neither is the fifth attempt or the sixth although Sideswipe thinks they came very close. He was able to hear Sunstreaker’s thoughts and even glimpse a memory, but in the end, their sparks separated without a satisfactory conclusion.

               That’s how Ratchet finds them, limp and dejected and curled so tightly together there isn’t a millimeter of space between them.

               “Oh, boys…” Ratchet sighs, kneeling down behind Sunstreaker. “What have you done to yourselves?”

               Sunstreaker doesn’t move; he keeps his head tucked under Sideswipe’s chin and lets Sideswipe do the talking.

               “The merge isn’t taking,” Sideswipe answers, voice box stinging with each sound. The last time had hurt the worst, especially the breaking apart. They had both screamed. Thank Primus for the noise cancelling foam; that’d be an odd conversation with the humans otherwise.

               “How many times have you tried?” Ratchet asks, pulling several items out of subspace. It quickly became apparent that Ratchet planned on giving them an energon drip.

               Oh yeah. Fuel reserves are kinda low aren’t they? Sideswipe’s sitting at 23% so he’d be no help as a transfusion donor. He has no idea what Sunstreaker’s levels are. Probably lower, considering Ratchet goes to Sunstreaker first.

               “Six. I’m pretty sure the seventh will do it though. We got really close this last time,” Sideswipe says. Close like balancing on the edge of a cliff, _wanting_ to step off, _wanting_ to free fall, but the updraft was too strong to let you tip over.

               Ratchet frowns. “I don’t scan any spark damage. Your beat is actually the steadiest I’ve seen it in a long time.”

               “… hurts,” Sunstreaker finally says, letting Ratchet manhandle his arm so a line could be placed into his port.  

               “Is there anything I can do for that?” Ratchet asks, frown deepening.

               Sideswipe considers it but finally shakes his head. “We just got to get through it. Once the merge takes, everything should be fine. Although we request we never be separated again.”

               Ratchet nods absently. “Noted. And supported.”

               He makes a tasking sound as he pries the two of them apart enough to get Sideswipe’s drip started. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy?” he asks, indicating the streaks of dried transfluid and lubricant on their bellies and thighs. After the fifth merge attempt, Sideswipe hadn’t felt up to cleaning any more.

               “It’s been low key. Promise,” Sideswipe explains.

               Ratchet harrumphs. “It doesn’t help your fluid levels.”

               “Helps other things,” Sunstreaker says. Relaxes them, gives them a reprieve, and still lets them enjoy one another instead of giving into any possible resentment towards each other.

               “Mm. I think you should stop trying to merge for a bit. Get some rest, some _real_ recharge and a good defrag,” Ratchet says. “It might be that you’re both too weak at this point to support a full merge.”

               “Fuck you, I’m not weak,” Sideswipe retorts, but he gives Ratchet a wink of one optic as he says it. “Sign me up for the soonest Ironman race.”

               “Uh huh,” Ratchet says mildly, showing he hasn’t taken offense. “Regardless, can you obey your doctor and do what I tell you for once?”

               “Yeah, we’ll stop,” Sunstreaker says, raising his head from Sideswipe’s chest. Sideswipe stares at the side of his twin’s face in surprise.

               “Sunny, really? You’re the one who was pushing me in the first place!”

                Sunstreaker’s expression is the weariest Sideswipe has ever seen his brother look. “I’m _tired_ , Sides… I could use some rest.”

                Sideswipe’s resistance (small as it already was) melts away completely. “Of course, baby, we’ll stop. For however long you need.”

                Sunstreaker rolls his optics a little, and burrows back against Sideswipe’s hood. Sideswipe just looks at Ratchet, a little alarmed. Ratchet pats Sideswipe on the hip.

                “You’ve been at this for five days, Sideswipe. Six attempted spark merges – it’s going to be draining. I only wish I had checked on you earlier,” Ratchet says, frowning again.

                “Five days?!”

                Primus. Sideswipe had purposively turned his chronometer off because he didn’t want to see more and more time passing without a complete merge. But five days? That was just sad, really.

                “Five days,” Ratchet says, nodding. “All right, you’re both set up. There’s a backup bag that I want you to switch out to, Sideswipe. Can you manage that?”

                “Yeah. Yeah, I can manage,” Sideswipe says quietly, gently stroking the back of Sunstreaker’s helm. “Thanks, Ratchet. For everything.”

                Ratchet sighs, pushing himself to this feet and creaking the entire way. “I haven’t done much. I wish I could spare you both the pain.”

                Sideswipe shrugs awkwardly from his side. “It’s not your fault that we’re the weirdo twins.”

                “Yes, well… do you want me to stay and monitor you for a while or do you think you’ll be all right?” Ratchet asks.

                “We should be ok,” Sideswipe says, already feeling less run down as the energon drip does its work. Knowing Ratchet, he had fortified the fuel with supplements, or at least Sunstreaker’s. Although with the strutless way Sunstreaker’s getting, Sideswipe suspects there might be a little bit of sedative in there too.

                Sideswipe gives Ratchet the evil optic after shaking his brother’s shoulder to no response.

                Ratchet smiles innocently and leans down to pat Sideswipe on the shoulder one final time before heading out.

                “Get some rest,” Ratchet repeats, sticking his head back through the doorway before shutting it.

                “Primus,” Sideswipe mutters. “It’s not like I’m going start dancing the Macarena.”

                Sighing, Sideswipe curls himself back around his twin, gathering Sunstreaker close. He indulges himself, stroking Sunstreaker’s shoulders and helm and nuzzling his cheek. It helps Sideswipe stay awake; the energon pouches will need to be changed out in a few minutes.

                His optic shutters are feeling pretty heavy by the time the first bag runs out. It’s with the utmost reluctance that he detangles himself from his warm nest and sits up to change out the bag. Once he’s confident both second pouches are dripping steadily, Sideswipe flops back down and snuggles close to Sunstreaker. Within seconds, he starts feeling a spreading lassitude that he know is not typical recharge coming on.

                “Sneaky medic,” Sideswipe murmurs before succumbing to the drugs’ effects.

\--

 

                Sideswipe wakes to a lot of jostling and urgent callings of his designation.

                “Mmph. Whaaaaaa?” Sideswipe whines, doing his best to sink further down into the softness below him.

                “Wake up, you glitch!” Someone exclaims in Sideswipe’s audial and it’s sad that it takes him several seconds to recognize his brother’s voice.

                Sideswipe cracks open one optic and glares up at Sunstreaker. “I know there ain’t anyone attacking, cuz Ironhide would be breaking our door down to scream at us to get our afts moving. So what is it?”

                Sunstreaker bodily shoves Sideswipe onto his back and then slithers up over him, straddling Sideswipe’s upper thighs. Which is… kinda nice actually. He hasn’t had anyone climb into his lap in a looong while.

                “It’s time,” Sunstreaker announces and starts prodding at Sideswipe’s chest. “Open up.”

                 “Time for what?” Sideswipe asks muzzily. Damnit, what exactly had Ratchet used on him and why was Sunstreaker so fragging perky right now?!

                 “This is it. It’s going to happen this time, I know it,” Sunstreaker says. His voice shakes, which is incentive enough for Sideswipe to crack open both optics and try to wake up a little. And that’s when he notices Sunstreaker’s chest plates have retracted and beneath the translucent crystals, Sunstreaker’s spark is flickering wildly.

                 At the sight, Sideswipe’s spark gives a painful throb and suddenly Sideswipe is totally on board with this plan. His armor transforms out of the way so fast Sunstreaker almost loses a finger. He doesn’t seem to care. He immediately dives down, pressing his front to Sideswipe’s and kissing him frantically.

                 “Slow down, slow down, Sunny,” Sideswipe murmurs in between kisses. Sunstreaker is trembling badly and while Sideswipe understands the need, he doesn’t know where the sudden increased urgency is coming from.

                 “Please,” Sunstreaker whispers. His body jerks atop Sideswipe’s and then that familiar heat is washing into Sideswipe’s chest. Sideswipe’s traitorous spark gives another lurch and flings itself against its housing, making Sideswipe wince.

                 Oh yay. This is looking like it isn’t going to be painful at all.

                 But Sideswipe’s crystal retreats because he and Sunstreaker are no strangers to pain and through the haze of lingering drugs, the promise of a merge is like a siren’s call.

                 Their sparks slam together, and Sideswipe is dimly surprised the damn things don’t explode with the force. Can a spark get bruised? Because his feels bruised. Bruised and raw and angry and desperate and as the sparks’ outer edges mesh together, he now understands Sunstreaker’s urgency.

                 It’s like their sparks had gotten annoyed he and Sunstreaker had stopped attempting to merge and were making up for lost time. Very, _very_ aggressively.

                 Sideswipe’s back arches with a pained grunt as Sunstreaker keens against Sideswipe’s cheek. Their sparks keep whirling together, slamming forward as if sheer brute force will do the trick, then briefly retreating to do it all over again.

                 It hurts.

                 It hurts worse than attempt number six and Sideswipe has to consciously let go of Sunstreaker so as not to dent him. Sunstreaker has no such compunction and Sideswipe can feel his armor across his shoulders dimpling beneath the press of Sunstreaker’s fingers.

                “Almost… so close, so close,” Sunstreaker chants and squirms atop Sideswipe, trying to get closer.  “Please, Sides….”

                “It’s not like I’m saying no!” Sideswipe exclaims, because he feels it too. If his body had some kind of way to track this like a download, he’d say they were at 95%. He can feel Sunstreaker now, the essence of his personality, all his emotions, his fears, his hopes, everything… only a thin veneer still separates them.

                One more slam and something inside Sideswipe caves under the pressure. The entire universe holds its breath as Sideswipe stands on top of that now windless cliff, moves to the edge and holds a pede out over it, into empty space. There’s a presence at his side and a hand reaches for his, entangling their fingers together. Reassured that they’re finally together, they take that final step and plunge downwards.

\--

               Sideswipe’s obviously never been bonded to anyone other than Sunstreaker. He’s had other mated pairs tell him what it’s like when they merge, but it’s nothing like what happens between Sideswipe and his twin.

               Instead of two beings becoming _more_ , Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are two beings finally becoming _whole_.

               It’s utter and complete serenity, a peace Sideswipe’s never been able to find anywhere, even after a good interfacing session. This isn’t about bodies or the outside world… this is just fitting a trillion different pieces of a puzzle together to achieve utmost satisfaction.

               To some extent, there’s carnal pleasure in a spark merge, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker don’t chase after that now and rarely have before. That wholeness so much more important and they linger there, wallow in it and each other.

               Eventually though, their sparks _do_ separate. They’re not meant to be together permanently after all. At least this separation is a pain-free one. It makes Sideswipe feel bereft, but it doesn’t physically hurt.

               In fact, his spark feels _good._ Like an engine that has been firing on only three cylinders for the longest time finally getting the other nine back. The metaphor makes him want to get up and _move_ , and he suddenly can’t wait to show Sunstreaker the nearby straight stretch of beach which is so nice for racing on.

               “Mmm,” Sunstreaker hums, slowly shifting atop Sideswipe’s chest. “I missed you.”

               “I missed you too,” Sideswipe murmurs, reaching up to cradle Sunstreaker’s face. Sunstreaker’s gaze meet Sideswipe’s and Sideswipe smiles. It’s probably pretty sappy, based off Sunstreaker’s optic roll.

               But despite that, Sunstreaker’s smiling too, and for the first time in over five centuries, Sideswipe remembers what true happiness is.

 

~ End


End file.
